Hidden Pain
by the-ryter121
Summary: The pain is the worst at night, when the darkness presses in and all he can think about is his leg and his uselessness. Astrid helps Hiccup when he is at his lowest point.


It was like his veins were filled with lightening. The pain shot from his shin, scorching up his leg and right to his chest, causing his muscles to clench involuntarily along its path. The weight of his blankets lay heavily across his leg, and he felt like they were crushing his foot… his stump. He kept forgetting. He gripped the sheets between his teeth to stifle his screams, clenching his jaw until it ached, to keep quiet until this wave passed. The nights were the worst, when all he could think about was the pain and his own uselessness. It was a short burst of pain this time, and after a few more minutes his shuddering breaths returned to their usual rhythm. Stoic was away on a short voyage, thank Odin, so he didn't have to know how pitiful of a Viking his son truly was. Hiccup wiped at his wet face, whisking aside the tears he hadn't known were falling.

* * *

Astrid hadn't been sleeping well lately, tossing and turning as thought churned in her head. The only way she had gotten any decent sleep in the last few weeks was when she got up insanely early and worked all day to tire herself out. Stupid Hiccup. Sure she had kissed him after he had woken up from his coma (her cheeks flushed just thinking about it), but she had never been particularly good with emotions, and he wasn't particularly forthcoming with them either.

Sighing, she finally gave up on sleep for the night and pushed back her blankets. She pulled on her boots and slipped out the door, into the night. It was cool, and the stars were shining brightly in the inky sky. Nights had become considerably more peaceful since the end of the dragon raids, and she didn't even bother taking her axe with her. She was strolling, with no particular destination in mind as she let her thoughts wander. Her dragon, the same Deadly Nadder from their battle with the Dragon Queen, was called Havard now, and he was perhaps the least dragon-y dragon ever. He acted more like a giant, preening bird than anything else, and she had even caught himself admiring his reflection on a number of occasions. She chuckled at the thought of him, so different from everything she had ever believed about dragons before… before Hiccup. She sighed again, and shook herself from her reverie, only to find herself below the house of the one who so often plagued her thoughts.

Astrid plunked herself upon the grass, pulling out little tufts and twirling them between her fingers as she contemplated the house before her. It was enormous and undoubtedly the oldest of the houses in Berk, due to the strong stone fortifications that made up its base. It stood upon the hill, overlooking the whole village, much as a shepherd would overlook his flock of sheep. She simply sat there for a few moments, enjoying the silence, before a muffled scream shattered the calm. She leapt to her feet, adrenaline pumping through her veins, and took off running up the hill. Stoic was gone so the only one who could be screaming was…

She burst through the door without thinking, slamming it against the wall, from where it gently swung closed again behind her. Her eyes skimmed the dim single room, till he found the bed, hidden in the shadows of the dying fire. Within it lay the broken form of a softly moaning boy. Before she could even think, she had crossed the room and was kneeling at his side. He had pushed away most of his blankets, but a thin sheen of sweat clung to his skin, and his muscles were clenched tight in agony. Her heart broke just a little. She pressed her hand to his forehead and felt what she feared she would. A fever was raging through his body. Another muffled scream slipped past his bloodless lips, clenched around a scrap of cloth he had torn from his sheets. Astrid allowed the little medical training she had take over. She found a small cloth, a bowl of water and some fresh bandages and set to work. She drew back the sheets and pulled his wounded leg toward her. She swiftly unwrapped the cloth from his stump and revealed the fresh skin beneath. It was feverish and swollen, and walking on it must have been horrible. She glanced at the feverish boy, wondering at how he hid it so well. She took the cloth and cool water and began to cleanse the wound.

* * *

He had woken when he first felt the blankets tossed off of him, but he couldn't find the strength to open his eyes, and he simply allowed the person to fumble around in the dark. When the wrapping came off of his shin and cool water began washing over it, he forced his eyes to open. For a dazed moment he wondered if it was some sort of dream, where Astrid had come to care for him. It wasn't until she jostled his leg a little and he felt the jolt of pain that he realized she was really there. He wanted to say something, anything, to show that he was conscious, but his vocal chords were too abused, too raw to allow anything but a soft moan. Helpless, he watched as she tended to him.

Her eyes were shining with concern, and though she was concentrated on re-bandaging his stump, she was biting her lip in worry. She finished quickly, her warrior's hands soft and sure on his healing wound, and she wiped her brow. Even then she didn't notice he was conscious. He slowly let his eyes drift shut again. His leg felt much better, and exhaustion was beckoning him into the quiet of unconsciousness. He felt a cool cloth on his face, wiping away the sweat and tears from his last fit, and he allowed himself to be carried away into sleep.

* * *

As Astrid watched him sleep, his face totally at peace, she began to notice the dark rings under his eyes, and the pale cast to his face, which made his freckles stand out in stark comparison. She was ashamed she hadn't noticed before, but his green eyes were always sparkling, and he was never short on dry humor. He had fooled her, like he was fooling everyone else. The muscles in his face tensed, and the serenity of only a moment before was shattered. Then, before she even knew what was happening, his screaming cut through the silence, causing her to leap from the chair that she had been resting in. Tears were streaming down his face, and he had his leg clutched to his chest.

She didn't know what to do to make it better. All she could hear was his screaming in her ears. Unknowingly tears began to slide down her face. She looked frantically around the room for something, anything to ease his pain, but nothing was to be found. Finally she allowed her instincts to take over. She pulled him into a strange kind of embrace, pulling him as close to her as she could manage. As soon as he felt her arms around him he shifted, grabbing her just as tight, and together they simply held each other until it was dawn.

* * *

When Hiccup awoke, the first thing to greet his eyes was the sunlight shining softly on the face of the girl he had been in love with since he was eight. She was lying in his bed, her arms loosely clasped around his chest. The first thing he did was fall backwards out of his bed, tumbling to the ground in a heap. The second thing was to let out a yelp of surprise and pain that jolted the sleeping girl awake. Immediately her ice blue eyes trained on him, filled with concern, and before he could say anything she was crawling over to help him to stand. He felt his face heat up, and revulsion at his own weakness brought stinging tears to his eyes. Some kind of hero he was, some kind of Viking. He pulled himself up quickly, before she could reach him, and he shied away from her hands. She stood taken aback, hands still poised to help him. He hid his misery behind the cool mask he had used so frequently as of late.

"Thanks Astrid. Sorry you had to deal with that. You don't have to stay, I'll be fine." Now she was mad.

She could see him shut down in true Viking fashion, hiding his pain and putting on a tough face. This wasn't Hiccup. She felt her hands clench at her sides in frustration. He might not be confrontational, but she sure as hell was.

"What are you doing? I was trying to help you, and this is the thanks that I get?" She could see the shame in his eyes, and she wanted to hit him for it.

"Look, just please don't tell anyone about this," he said. "especially not my father. He doesn't know and I think I've disappointed him enough for one lifetime." He dropped onto the bed and pulled his prosthetic foot toward him, attaching it quickly with a small hiss of pain. He stood shakily and then tried to shoulder past her. She caught his arm as he passed, pulling him around to face her again. His green eyes were wide with shock.

"You listen to me. You are a hero, whether you wanted to be or not, and nothing is going to change that. Your father loves you, and nothing is going to change that either. Hiding all the pain that you have been going through isn't like you at all." He turned his head away, staring angrily at the floor.

"Well maybe," he said through gritted teeth, "this_ is_ me. Maybe I'm finally acting like a real Viking." He pulled his arm free from her grip, angry at himself, at Astrid, at his leg, his father. Everything. She caught his hand again and pulled him toward her again. She punched him hard in the arm.

"That was for being an idiot. I love you because you aren't like everyone else. I don't want you to change." They both wore matching blushes. His mouth opened and closed like a fish on dry land, all his dry humor lost to him now, and he finally gave up on speech. Instead he grabbed the madly blushing girl in front of him and kissed her. It was just a tentative brush of his lips against hers, testing the waters, but Hiccup soon gained confidence, pulling her closer to his body. She smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. It was soft and sweet and perfect, much more than any of the other tentative kisses they had shared. Slowly they pulled apart, and he rested his forehead against hers.

They stood like that for a few moments, simply relaxing, before Hiccup grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together. He pulled her to the bed, where they sat side by side. Hesitantly he broke the silence.

"Thank you Astrid. I… I just feel so useless, and my leg has been hurting too bad to fly. I thought things would change after the fight with the Dragon Queen, but it feels like they never will. I just don't want to see my dad disappointed in me again. I'm sorry for how I acted before." He looked down at his calloused hand, and her petite hand clasped within it. She rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand soothingly.

"Hiccup, I know you might not have been everything Stoic thought he wanted, but things _are_ different now. Yes, you might have lost your leg, but you aren't any less of a person, or anything stupid like that, okay? Just… promise me that you won't hide this stuff from me anymore." She ruffled his hair with a laugh, and pulled him to his feet. She placed a chaste kiss on his lips and he flushed again.

"I promise," he said, with a small sigh, and together they made their way out the door. Slowly his pain, so horrifying in the dark and so strong while he was alone, faded from his memory.

* * *

Needless to say, I love this movie, and after reading the fic "I'll Help You" by Maui Girl 808 I was struck rather violently with inspiration. Her story is wonderful, and it is her idea that I utilized here. The lines are to note where the change in perspective happens. Aside from the horrendous ending, I really like how this fic turned out, and I would love it if everyone who reads would review.

I do not own How to Train Your Dragon or any of the characters within.


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